Honey And The Moon
by itsandrewbabe
Summary: Alison and Emily have a history, a messy one with a sad ending. So when they find out that they're college roommates for the next year, neither are pleased and they begrudgingly try to deal with it. Emison fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. I got writer's block while trying to write a new chapter for downtown train, and this is the product of that lmao. I hope you like it!**

* * *

Alison lets go of her grip and lets her bag fall to the ground with a thump. Her mother follows her lead, and Alison lets her eyes wander the room. They land on the second bed and lets out a begrudging sigh.

"Looks cozy." Her mother compliments, walking around the room. "More storage than back when I was in college." She adds, running her hands over the set of draws.

"And a bathroom. I used to share one with five other girls." Her mother looks at her for a response, but Alison doesn't. "Come on honey, lighten up. These are gonna be your best years." Alison smiles at her, with an edge of skepticism. She knows her mother means well, but it's not helping.

"You know, your aunt Cindy and I-"

"Were college roomies. Yeah, I know." Alison interjects with unintentional steel. Off her mother's downturned frown, she adds, "I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean for that to come off as-"

"I know. Listen, Christmas is just around the corner. You'll be home before you know it. The time will just fly by."

"I hope so," Alison whispers though she has a feeling that those months will drag. She looks between the two beds inquisitively, internally listing the pros on cons of both. The one on the left is next to the window and the bathroom. The one on the right has a lamp on the bedside table. She steps toward the one on the left. She momentarily spares a thought for her future roommate, but honestly, she won't lose any sleep over it.

Her mother looks at her watch, then throws Alison an apologetic glance. "I have to go. You gonna be alright?" She asks, stepping over to her. "I'll be fine. Call you later?" Her mother nods then draws her into a brief embrace.

When they pull apart, her mother gives her a warm smile, though it doesn't cloud the sadness beneath it. "Have fun, okay?" She encourages her. Alison rolls her eyes. "Okay."

"See you at Christmas."

"See you."

When she leaves, Alison falls down onto the bed, heaving out a long breath. A sense of somewhat panic washes over her, and she works her jaw. She isn't worried about making new friends, she's got the confidence and charm to do so. It's more of a gut feeling, an unsettling instinct.

She decides to snap out of it, to sublimate her energy into unpacking her things. She starts with her photos, delicately pinning them to the corkboard on the wall by her bed. Truthfully, she chooses to do this first to make it clear to her roommate that this is her bed - to mark her territory.

It's selfish, she knows it is, but she doesn't have an essence of care.

She pauses when she hears someone fumbling at the door handle. She initially brushes it off, but when the person on the other side of it clearly struggles to get it open, she relents and stops what she's doing to go help.

She tries to open the door, but the person on the other side seems to have a grip on the handle because Alison can't get it open. "Let go of the handle." Alison calls out, frustrated. Almost immediately, the person lets go, and Alison swings the door open.

Alison halts and feels her stomach turn into a bundle of knots, prompting her jaw to unwillingly drop.

It's Emily Fields.

It's _Emily fucking Fields_ , surrounded by bags, and her mother, who just waltzes past her into the room. Emily gives her a blatant faux-smile, and her eyes flash with disappointment and muted resentment.

This is uncomfortable for her too, and ironically, that makes Alison more comfortable.

At least their sentiments are mutually in order.

"You're Alison Dilaurentis, right?" Comes Mrs. Fields' voice from behind her. Alison turns, ripping her gaze away from Emily to face her. The woman is glancing at the photos on the wall and Alison forces a smile. "That's me."

"Emily used to talk about you-"

"Mom." Emily scolds, brushing past Alison. Her mother gives her daughter a quizzical look, then shifts her gaze to Alison, holding out her hand, "Nice to finally meet you, Alison."

Alison shifts awkwardly. She politely shakes Mrs. Fields hand, with the scrutinizing glare on the side of her head.

"You too, Mrs. Fields." Alison greets, as politely as she can possibly muster. Mrs. Fields looks to Emily and gives her a tight-lipped smile - as if she's trying to refrain herself from crying.

"I'm so proud of you, Emmy." She says, cupping her daughter's face. Emily gulps back what Alison guesses are tears, and takes that as her cue to give them a moment.

She surreptitiously steps out of the room, then walks down the corridor, pushing past other students. When she's seemingly alone, she leans against a wall. Her breath's come out in short bursts, the air is tight, and her chest is replete with utter anxiety.

Alison almost swears she's dreaming. What are the chances, that she would end up becoming roommates with someone she wished she'd never see again?

To be fortuitously dealt this one shitty card from a seemingly fantastic deck.

Once her breathing has plateaued, she ventures back to the room on shaky legs. She lets her mind drift back to the moment she and Emily first met.

* * *

The library is Alison's only place of solitude, the only place she can escape from the likes of Noel Kahn, and Jenna Marshall. Here, she can read books by George Orwell and Margaret Atwood without being sardonically scolded for it.

She barely registers the librarian warning students that they only had fifteen more minutes until class; completely engrossed by the words of Jane Austen. She ultimately decides to put the book away, with reluctance, knowing full well that if she starts reading again, she'll be late to class. She sinks into her chair, and watches the clock on the wall, letting out a sigh.

She shoves herself to her feet and begins to wander the aisles of the library, deciding inwardly what to read next. She stops in her path when she sees a girl eyeing up the Charles Dickens section of the shelf, piquing her interest. Alison regards the girl, finding herself admiring her beauty. In a quick-fire decision, she walks over; so that she's standing to her right.

"You should try Great Expectations," Alison suggests, watching for the girl's reaction. The girl almost balks, then seemingly considers it. "It's his best work," Alison adds. The girl flashes her a grateful smile and grabs the book from the shelf. She inspects it, flipping through the first couple of pages before looking at Alison.

"Thank you." The stranger tells her. Alison lights up with pride, and introduces herself, "No problem. I'm Alison." The girl shuffles slightly, and her lips tug upward.

"I'm Emily."

* * *

Alison enters the room, feeling agitation wash over her when she sees that Emily is still here. The brunette is sat on her bed, drumming her fingers on her thigh in a mindless staccato, something that Alison notes the girl has a trenchant for when she's feeling nervous.

She sits on the bed opposite Emily and watches her with rumination. The brunette seems to notice, because she lifts her gaze to Alison's, giving her an almost surly glare. Alison begrudgingly decides to momentarily put aside her differences, sighing inwardly in anticipation.

"Maybe-"

"Don't." Emily interrupts; her eyes flashing dangerously. Alison doesn't speak back, she doesn't move. Clearly, there's still a lot of anger on Emily's part. "You've done so well ignoring me this past year, I'm sure you can continue to do so for another." Emily spits. The hurt is present in her voice, and guilt begins to resonate within her.

"Just- Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. I sleep early, so don't be loud when you come in. And don't bring any guys back when I'm here." Emily's presumption hit's Alison in the gut, and she wonders if the girl truly knows her at all, or if she ever did.

It pisses her off, and she decides not to hold back her initial reaction.

"Fuck you, Emily." Alison fires back, shoving herself onto her feet. Emily stands, and heads toward the door, but is stopped when Alison blocks her path and stands in her space. The corners of Emily's lips twitch, and Alison burns with wicked pride.

A knock at the door ends their standoff, and Emily lightly shoves past her to answer it. Alison turns to see who it is, and very near screams.

Paige Mccullers.

Fucking brilliant. "Wow, you gotta be fucking kidding me." Alison scoffs, to which Emily throws her a chiding glance. Paige shifts awkwardly at the door, and Alison spares a bit of sympathy for her, especially for what she's about to say. She walks over to Emily and stares her dead in the eye.

"If I can't bring anyone back, neither can you." Emily slightly flinches at that. She clears her throat, cowering and stepping back. Alison uses that as an out, leaving the room pissed off for the second time today.

* * *

 **Anyways.. This was a spur of the moment kind of thing. If you want me to continue then let me know in the comments, or on** tumblr **bitteremison. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everyone. I'm glad ya'll are enjoying this as much as I am - it's really fun to write. :P**

 **Update: Someone pointed out that it was difficult to figure out when there's a flashback, so I decided to add dates to them, to make things clearer. The present time is currently set in September of 2017.**

 **Let me know if this helps! :)**

* * *

Ever since their confrontation, Alison and Emily have been trying to peacefully coexist, by simply pretending that the other doesn't exist.

Alison feels like she's been living with a ghost for a week. The girl is rarely present, and when she is, she lingers in Alison's peripheral vision; in a persistent, imperious and bitter silence.

The stubbornness burns Alison's neck, and it slides up to her ears - she shivers at it with unease.

The last time Alison directly looked at Emily was six days ago when they argued.

She's been afraid to look ever since - not wanting to see that resentment in her eyes again.

The gravity of the silence begins to uncomfortably seep through Alison, causing her breathing to very nearly stop. Unable to bear it any longer, she opens up her laptop and goes to Netflix. She ruminates what to watch, and picks My Best Friends Wedding.

She furtively lets out the breath she's been holding when the sound coming from her laptop speakers pierces the daunting silence, making the atmosphere almost bearable to preside in.

Sadly though, it's cut short when Emily lets out a disgruntled huff of air. Irritation prickles all over Alison's skin, and she tries to refrain herself from snapping, by staring fixedly forward at the screen.

"Can't you use your headphones? I'm trying to study." Emily spits, with venom replete in her voice.

Alison sighs inwardly, relenting and reaching for her headphones on the bedside table. She trenchantly plugs them in, and hits play again.

After all that, she hardly even pays attention to the film. Her mind seems to be cycling down memory lane instead - it has a tendency for doing that.

* * *

 **January 2016**

Mrs. Morris slams a stack of books onto the desk, in a successful attempt to get everyone in the room to pipe down - even Noel Kahn jumps at the noise.

"Alright class, if you're done, I'd like to begin." Mrs. Morris says, raising her voice with every word. The students simply nod, and some settle into their seats. The teacher's lips twitch upward in an amused grin, and she signals one of the students to come to the front.

"Hand these out please, Lucas." She tells him. The boy gives her a curt nod and wastes no time. He picks up the stack of papers and shuffles around the room.

Mrs. Morris clears her throat, "As it says on the paper on your desk, this will be a group project." She reveals, to which everyone murmurs fondly. Alison watches as the teacher rolls her eyes, and suddenly, she dreads what's to come next.

"I've already chosen who you will be working with." She reveals, receiving a crowd of groans of annoyance in response. "Don't make a fuss." She chides at them.

"Noel Kahn. You'll be paired up with Mona Vanderwaal." Alison hears Noel make wretching noises beside her and looks to the front to see Mona shuffle with unease, fidgetting with her pen.

"Alison Dilaurentis, you're with Emily Fields." Alison's stomach flips with unanticipated excitement, and she momentarily tries to discern it. She glances to Emily, who's sat on Mona's right. The girl is looking back at her, timidly offering a friendly smile. Alison returns it and is piqued with interest when the girl steers her gaze away - almost overwhelmed.

Something inside of Alison revels in the effect it has on her, and she finds herself wanting more of it - more of making Emily nervous.

Alison's not got a specific answer to why she wants to entice a reaction out of the brunette. Truthfully, she doesn't really know herself, but she knows she needs it - for some inexplicable reason.

It isn't until Mrs. Morris stops talking that Alison realizes that she's been staring at the back of Emily's head for a good couple of minutes.

"For the project, you and your partner have to give a presentation on a book - of your choice." Mrs. Morris tells them, earning a few cheers. Alison looks back at Emily again, but this time, the brunette doesn't return it. Instead, the girl stares at the sheet of paper before her.

She must sense Alison's eyes on her because she tenses with slight scrutiny.

* * *

 **Present**

Alison almost falls off her bed when she hears the front door slam. The blonde turns to face Emily's bed, to see she's no longer there.

The blonde pauses her film and yanks her earphones out in agitation. She rolls over and stares at the ceiling, heaving out a nearly painful breath. After a moment of laying in silence, she places her headphones back into her ears and listens to some music to distract her from her inner turmoil.

Though, that seems to do the complete opposite. Instead, every verse throws her mind back to when things were fine - when things were good. Her mind flashes through every moment they've shared;

 _Don't know why I'm still afraid If you weren't real I would make you up;_

 _Now._

* * *

 **January 2016**

"Emily!" Alison calls out, running down the hall. The brunette in question spins around, and steps over to Alison. "Alison, hi." She responds quietly, looking to the ground. Alison wonders if it's to specifically avoid having to look her in the eye, or if it's just a nervous habit with everyone.

"I forgot to give you my number," Alison tells her, but Emily looks at her with furrowed and perplexed eyes. "For the project?" Alison adds. Emily's expression becomes dazed and Alison swears that her cheeks redden ever so slightly.

"Right- here." Emily stumbles out, giving her phone to Alison. The blonde types her number in and hits save. She gives her phone back and throws her a practiced, demure smile. "Let me know when's best for you." She tells Emily, before walking away - exuding confidence and power.

She makes sure to glance over her shoulder at the girl as she turns a corner, and is delighted when she sees that Emily is still stood there - almost awe-struck.

* * *

 **Present**

Alison doesn't remember falling asleep, nor does she recall tucking herself in and switching off the lights. In a state of confusion, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table and reads the time.

4:05am.

She averts her gaze to Emily, who's laying on her back, fast asleep. Alison's mind jumps through a multitude of theories, as she tries to figure out how she ended up under her blanket. She momentarily wonders if Emily did it, but then quickly stomps on that thought, and instead concludes that she must have done it when half asleep.

Alison carefully watches Emily for a beat and sighs out. She dims the brightness of her phone, then rolls over so she's facing the wall, and sleeps.

* * *

The blonde's body jerks upward, provoked by what she thinks is a siren. When her mind catches her up, she realizes that it isn't a siren, that it's actually an alarm.

Emily's alarm, more specifically.

Begrudgingly, Alison checks her phone and almost gapes when a big fat five o'clock hits her in the face. The blonde turns to face Emily, who's already sat up and grabbing neatly folded clothes from her bedside table.

When Emily finally looks at her, Alison gives her a pointed glare, perfected with the sharp arch of her left brow for emphasis. When the brunette shrugs and averts her gaze, Alison feels something inside of her snap.

"What the hell is your problem?" Alison spits. Emily ignores her and grabs her flask. "Answer me," Alison demands, with a slight lilt to her voice. Emily pauses whatever she's doing, and lifts her eyes to Alison's - they seem bleary and conflicted.

"You are." Emily finally breathes out, before getting up and vacating the room.

Alison lets the words set in, and goes to punch her pillow. Though she misses; hitting the metal frame of her bed instead. She sucks in a sharp breath and studies her freshly bruised knuckles.

It is in that moment that she shuts the door on any residual feelings there may be; deciding that Emily doesn't deserve it.

If Emily wants to be a bitch, Alison can be a bigger one.

It's not even a competition.

* * *

 **The song that Alison was listening to is called 'Honey And The Moon' by Joseph Arthur, if anyone's interested, lmao.**

 **Please let me know what you think in the comment section, or hmu on tumblr bitteremison. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Alison's never known anyone as absurdly petty as Emily Fields.

They haven't spoken. Emily continues to ghost her out and continues to leave a trail of mess, in a transparent attempt to infuriate Alison.

She unnecessarily wakes up at five every morning, and trenchantly stomps around the room, sometimes playing music on her phone.

So in retaliation, Alison's been going to bed at midnight, hoping to alter the unpalatable routine. Though it seems to have done quite the opposite, encouraging Emily to raise the bar higher instead.

It is when Alison opens the door to their room, that her theory is proven right, in the most unjustified and despicable way possible.

She opens the door to see Emily and Paige - cuddled up and watching a movie.

Everything stands still for a moment, except for the excessive beat of her heart, and the slight tremble of her knees. Paige's demeanor changes, in sheer awkwardness - she removes her arm draped around Emily, and gives Alison a tight-lipped smile. But it seems that Emily has ulterior motives, reaching for the girl's arm and placing around her.

Alison lifts her gaze to meet Emily's maudlin and almost smug one, as if knowing that she got the upper-hand on Alison.

She flashes the couple a faux-smile, and steps over to her own bed. She revels in the way that Emily's expression quickly staggers, clearly taken aback by her move.

Alison's phone rings, to which Emily audibly sighs. In the mood for petty vengeance, she answers it.

"Hey, Charlotte."

* * *

 **January 2016**

Alison absentmindedly runs her finger around the rim of her coffee mug and checks the time on her phone.

Thirty minutes. That's how late Emily is, and she begins to wonder if she'll even show. She also begins to wonder why she's still sitting here, waiting.

Alison sent Emily a text fifteen minutes ago, and is half-tempted to send another one, but resists.

The bell above the door rings, and Alison abruptly turns her head to see who it is. She glares at the ceiling when Noel Kahn walks in, and forces her lips upward when he approaches her.

"Alison Dilaurentis reading a book?" He teases, earning a flip of her finger. Alison sighs when he takes Emily's seat, then darts her eyes to the door. "Waiting for someone?"

Alison frowns at him. "No." She tells him, lifting the coffee to her lips. Her phone vibrates, and she almost too eagerly goes to check it. He grins at her, and lowers his gaze to her phone, then back up to her face - regarding her.

The bell above the door rings again, and this time, Alison stops herself from looking. "I'm so sorry that I'm late." Emily's voice comes from behind her. The blonde looks at Noel, and is half-tempted to wipe the ever-growing grin from his face. He slips out of the chair, and looks between her and Emily. "Catch you later, Ali."

As he walks away, Alison swears she hears muted chuckles coming from him. She heaves in a breath, and brings her eyes to look at Emily. Her hair is damp, and she pulls her over-sized jacket tighter around herself. "Was at practice," Emily explains, taking the now-vacated seat.

"It's okay, I was running late too," Alison says, taking another sip of her coffee. Emily lets out a sigh of relief, and gives Alison a warm smile. "So, any ideas for the project?"

Alison shrugs, then lowers her gaze to the books that Emily places onto the table, analyzing them; a biology textbook, a math book, and to her surprise - Great Expectations.

She hears Emily shuffle in her seat, and is piqued with interest when she looks at her to see a shade of red rises up her face. Alison grins as an idea forms in her head. "How about Great Expectations?"

Emily blinks at her abashedly and nods. "Yeah, sounds good."

Alison reciprocates the nod, and downs the remainder of her coffee. "Want another?" Emily asks, standing up. Alison wordlessly accepts the offer, by handing her the mug, and smiling gratefully. She watches Emily as she steps over to the counter.

She watches the interaction between her and the girl serving her, and works her jaw when the girl tilts her head at Emily, unabashedly checking her out. Alison's knee bounces at the way Emily almost sways from side to side, laughing at something that the server said.

It doesn't sit right with her. She isn't certain whether it's impatience or-

 _No_. She quells that thought immediately.

She isn't about that.

She decides to sublimate her energy into checking her notifications. She rolls her eyes at Hanna's snap chat story, which consists only of selfies. Selfies and Caleb Rivers trying to make a run for it away from the camera.

Her Facebook isn't much more interesting. Just some comments on her new profile picture, and passive-aggressive status updates from Jenna Marshall. When she's certain that it's been two minutes, Alison steers her gaze to Emily again.

The brunette gives a small wave to the server, and walks back over with two coffees in hand. She doesn't miss the way that the server watches her. "One coffee," Emily says, placing the coffee in front of Alison.

"Thanks," Alison says. She catches the server glancing at Emily in the corner of her eye, and tries her best to stop the curiosity percolating. She fails. "What's her deal?" It comes out with more steel than intended, and Alison internally kicks herself.

Emily frowns at her, and turns to look in Alison's line of sight. She turns back and shrugs. "Sabrina? We work together." Emily says simply. Alison nods, and internally wonders why she hasn't seen her working here before.

"I didn't know you worked here," Alison tells her.

"I started a couple of weeks ago."

Ah, that explains it. Deciding not to dwell on the subject any further, Alison clears her throat and reaches for Emily's copy of Great Expectations.

"Have you finished it?" Alison asks her. Emily shakes her head. "Not yet. Not even halfway." Emily tells her, letting out a breathy laugh.

"You can tell me what happens, though- If you want. For the project." She adds. Alison considers this for a moment. "Really?"

"Yeah. Hit me with it."

Amused, Alison leans closer to the girl opposite her. "Pip gets Estella in the end." Emily's eyes light up; bright and sincere, with an undercurrent of something else unreadable.

But then she looks away, clearly overwhelmed under Alison's stare. It brings an involuntary smile to Alison's mouth, and she finds herself enjoying this far more than she should be;

Whatever this is.

* * *

 **Present**

She's been chatting away on the phone for a couple of minutes, successfully pissing off Emily in the process, if any of her disgruntled huffs are of any indication.

"How's bunking with Americano going?" Charlotte asks, with the clear intention of poking fun at her little sister. Alison furtively glances at Emily. Her jaw is clenched, and she watches the laptop; eyes replete with unsavory-resentment. "Fucking unbearable."

Charlotte laughs, and Alison has to bite back the urge to rant. "I'm sure you'll both kiss and make up."

"Not funny."

She hears Charlotte sigh, and then a muted clink of a glass being put down. "Oh, come on Ali. You know I'm only playing. Listen, I'm sure things will get better. I mean, it's not like they can get any worse. You're already living together."

Alison tuts, and drags in a breath. "You have a point."

"Do you mind?" Comes Emily's voice from her left, even-toned and firm.

"Was that her?" Charlotte asks, intrigued. Alison looks at Emily, and the piercing expression on the girls face almost throws her off. Enthralled, she gives Emily a half-smile which she's confident will make her positively snap. "Yeah, that was her."

Emily's eyes flash with fury, and she gathers the sheet beneath her in an iron-clad grip. Paige shifts away from Emily, and places a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't let her get to you." She says, trying to get Emily to look at her - but she doesn't. Her eyes stay firmly on Alison.

"What's happening?" Charlotte asks, finishing with a gasp.

"Come to my place." Paige encourages, still trying to get her attention, but Emily still doesn't acknowledge her. When the girl realizes that there's no getting her to budge, Paige relents with a sigh. "Well, I'm going."

She shoves herself to her feet, and looks down at Alison. "You're pathetic." She turns to face Emily. "See you." It is then that Emily seemingly comes to her senses. She stands quickly and grabs Paige's hand to stop her.

"You don't have to go," Emily tells her, her voice surprisingly steady. Paige shakes her head, removing herself from Emily's grip. "See you tomorrow, Emily."

Paige heads for the door, slamming it on her way out. "What did you do?" Charlotte asks, proud and curious. Alison doesn't respond. She's unable to formulate a sentence when Emily's watching her like that - chiding and dangerous.

"You happy now?" Emily snarls, advancing towards the blonde, causing her to breath to hitch. "I'll call you back."

Alison doesn't wait for a response, she just hangs up her phone, and gets on her feet so she's eye to eye with the raving brunette. She drops her phone onto the bed, and crosses her arms.

Emily steps closer again. "What the fuck did I do to deserve you?" For what is conventionally a nice thing to say, is replete with such venom that Alison never knew was possible. Alison's exterior doesn't falter, but she's screaming inwardly. She's never seen Emily like this before, she's almost positive that nobody has until now.

The brunette leans in closer, successfully causing the blonde to gulp. "To deserve living with a phony who lies. Who used me." Alison's breath hitches, ultimately giving Emily more confidence. Emily's so close to her. They're so close, that she can feel the brunette's lips hover over her cheek.

"Because her boyfriend couldn't satisfy her." Emily scoffs. Alison feels poweless, and it feels wrongful. To regain some control, she looks into Emily's eyes, knowing that it will be too much for her. They are still filled with all the same rage as a moment ago, but there's an underlying conflict in them, which Alison can't quite discern.

The atmosphere around them shifts from bitter and stark, to one palpable with tension and pull.

"Neither could yours, if I recall." Alison bites back, amused by the way Emily's posture momentarily falters and her eyes darken. They alternate between Alison's intimidating eyes and her lips. Alison briefly revels, knowing that she's now got the higher ground.

A theory forms in Alison's mind. "Neither can your girlfriend, right?" Emily works her jaw, somehow managing to advance even closer. "You wish that-"

The next thing Alison knows, Emily's lips are on hers. Emily's lips are on hers, and they're filled with anger and worked up frustration. She marvels at the way Emily makes a needy noise as Alison slides her tongue against hers - tauntingly and effortlessly.

Emily grips her waist tightly, so tightly that Alison's certain she'll still feel it tomorrow - maybe that's her intention.

She hears Emily utter a breathy 'fuck' as Alison pulls her hips flush against hers. Every flick of Emily's tongue against her own sends shudders throughout her body, and she needs more.

But unfortunately, it's all over far too soon.

Emily pushes her away, and Alison stumbles backward; her rear hits the wall with a dull thump. She licks her lips, and lets out a shuddering breath, blinking and refocusing her eyes on Emily, who looks like she's on the verge of combustion.

"No," Emily whispers, blinking rapidly.

"No?" Alison reiterates, her voice uneven.

"I won't do this again. I won't sleep with you." Emily says, almost uncertain, almost torn.

Alison doesn't stop her as she grabs her jacket and bag. She doesn't stop her when she rushes for the door.

She doesn't stop her. She doesn't even budge.

* * *

 **Let me know your thoughts in the comments, or on tumblr at bitteremison! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Emison rose! It happened and it cured my writers block, so here's a new chapter!**

 **This chapter is super unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for any errors!**

* * *

Emily's bed is empty when she wakes up.

She must have stayed at Paige's last night. The pang of hurt that emanates in Alison's chest, or that acute sinking feel in her stomach is undeniable.

She doesn't want to feel hurt - she doesn't want to feel anything for Emily at all.

She glances at the clock on the wall, and sighs when it reads twelve in the afternoon. This is the first proper lie in that she's had ever since she's been living here, unable to have one due to Emily's unnecessary and borderline passive-aggressive morning routine.

She's refreshed but worn out, somehow. She concludes that she must have overslept, but subconsciously, she knows the real reason. The front door opens, and Alison jerks back in surprise, almost falling off the bed. It's Emily. She's wearing the same outfit as the night before, her hair is in a state, and she's avoiding Alison's stare.

They're back to square one, it seems. Though, come to think about it - they've never truly exceeded it in the first place.

Emily steps over to her set of draws and opens the top one - discarding clothes from it, and putting them into her bag.

"I-" Alison begins, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "You don't have to-" She pauses again, unable to say what she needs to.

Emily looks at her now packed bag, specifically and very blatantly ignoring Alison. "So you're just going to bunk with Paige and her roommate?" Alison asks, finally finding her voice in light of the indignation sparking in her.

Emily shrugs her eyes, and puts the bag down. "Aria, actually." She says matter-of-factly.

Alison recall's Aria mentioning that her dad applied for a job here. But it isn't until now - five months later- that Alison knows he got it. The prospect of Aria forgiving Alison has attenuated immensely, and Alison struggles to keep her expression unbothered and composed. Emily sighs, and for a second, she swears she sees Emily's eyes flash with pity.

"Her dad's out of town. She's throwing a party." Emily says, as if she's treading on egg shells - that she shouldn't be telling Alison about this.

Alison gives her a faux-smile, in an attempt to cloud the sting. "Party, huh?"

Emily looks at Alison with muted confliction. She runs a hand through her hair, and picks up her bag again. "Yeah."

An uncomfortable silence washes over them, and Emily flicks her eyes to the door. "I'll be back Monday." She says. Before Alison can even formulate a response, Emily's out the door.

* * *

 **February 2016**

What starts off with them meeting up after school, turns into them hanging out with every chance they get. Alison spends most of her lunch breaks with Emily at the library, they go for coffee after school, and they even hang out on the weekends.

They've pretty much been inseparable, and it hasn't been very receptive with Jenna or Noel. Their attitude toward and about Emily have been oddly off, and she can't decipher why. Emily's on the swim team, she gets along with everyone, and she's a good person.

It just doesn't add up.

"Noel, I won't ask again." Mrs. Morris says, snapping Alison out of her daze, and Noel out of his seat. "Stay after class." She chastises.

"But I have to-"

"I'll talk to your coach." Mrs. Morris finishes for him. He shakes his head and clenches his jaw. He helplessly glances to Alison, and Alison has to stifle a laugh.

Mrs. Morris continues with her presentation, and Alison steers her gaze to the front of the class. She watches Emily, who's resting her head on the palm of her hand. The brunette catches Alison's stare and freezes, smiling warmly at her.

For the first time, Alison finds herself looking away. It's such a foreign concept - Alison feeling nervous under Emily's gaze. It's such a contrast to their typical dynamic, that it doesn't sit well with her.

"What's up with you today?" Jenna whispers chidingly. Alison turns to face her friend. "Nothing." She reassures, with perhaps more of a bite than necessary.

Jenna stares at her narrowly, clearly not buying the response. "You've been weird, since hanging out with the swimmer." Alison frowns at her, almost offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jenna doesn't say anything, she just shrugs and gives Alison a half-smile. But her eyes are knowing, like she's insinuating something. Alison reluctantly holds back her primary reaction to snap, and instead rolls her eyes playfully. The bell rings, and Alison immediately steps out of her seat.

"See you later?" Jenna asks her, still seated. "Sure." Alison mutters. She refuses to allow herself to acknowledge Emily, blanking her as she storms out of the room, feeling caught.

Feeling an unfathomable and an unsettling sense of insecurity fill her.

"Ali." She hears Emily call after her. Alison doesn't turn, she pretends that she didn't hear her and heads for the exit.

* * *

 **Present**

Alison strolls through campus with one purpose - to find a bar. She considers calling Charlotte, but isn't ready for the grilling she'll inevitably endure, so she calls the next best person, who answers straight away.

"Hey, Spence. You free?" Alison asks, right off the bat.

"Uh, actually-"

"You're going to Aria's." Alison finishes for her, taking the muted sigh on the other end as confirmation. "Sorry, Ali. I'm free tomorrow, maybe we can do something then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." She hears Spencer let out a barely audible breath of relief. "Have you tried Charlotte?"

Alison groans. "Not yet."

"Does it have something to do with the argument you and Emily had last night?" Alison lets out a disgruntled huff, and makes a mental note to politely remind Charlotte not to notify Spencer of the details of her's and Emily's current predicament.

"Charlotte told you, didn't she?" Spencer hums in confirmation. "She said that you were trying to get a rise out of her." Spencer's chides.

"It was what she deserved." Alison spits. She has a feeling that she will come to lament her poor choice of words, and the scoff that comes from Spencer affirms this. Alison dreads the unavoidable lecture she's about to receive. "This isn't high school anymore, Alison. It's childish."

Alison bites her lip to prevent herself from saying something else she might later regret. She knows that Spencer's right. She knows it, yet she can't bring herself to truly accept it.

"Look, I have to run. Coffee tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." She mumbles. She ends the call and trenchantly shoves her phone into her bag.

Alison puffs her lips out into a pout, and pauses when she reaches a bar called 'Tiger'. Her classmates have told her about this place, and the reputation it holds is questionable. Alison hesitates, swaying back and forth, but ultimately decides to bite the bullet and go in.

 _It can't be that bad._

But it's exactly as they described it to be. The place is riddled with frat boys.

A fetid stench of beer and sweat fills her nostrils, and the distasteful music makes her ears cringe. This isn't her scene, but she doesn't care.

She needs to get drunk, right now.

She makes her way over to the bar, blocking out the gaping and inaudible chatter surrounding her. She rests her hands on the bar, and offers the barmaid who comes to her service a small smile. "Vodka and lemonade, please."

The barmaid gives her a curt nod and a somewhat sympathetic look. Alison chooses not to fuss over it, and instead keeps her eyes focused on the bar.

"Dude, that's Alison." She hears from her left. His voice is hushed, in a clear attempt to be stealthy. "Fuck, you're right." Comes another voice, one that she recognizes. She groans internally, and lifts her gaze to the air.

 _Can today just fuck off?_

"Alison?"

Alison reclines her head, and tilts her head to face the boy. "Travis." She greets, offering him her signature smile. He grins back, and moves over to her. "It's good to see you. You look well." He compliments, genuity replete in his voice.

"You too." She says back, letting out a sigh. His bright eyes flash with concern, and Alison averts her gaze. "How're things? We haven't seen you in a while."

She raises her brow pointedly at him. "You know why." She tells him mordantly. He blinks at the sense of the tone, and she continues. "Things are good." She says this time, with more warmth.

"Hanna talks about you." He reveals, settling onto the stool next to her. Alison squints at him inquisitively. She hears the clink of her drink meeting the counter, and briefly turns away to pay the woman.

"All bad I'm sure." She finally responds, to which Travis shakes his head. "She's worried." He says, imbuing a sense hope. Alison scoffs and brings her drink to her lips. "Listen, whatever happened between you and Em-"

"Don't." She bites back, bringing whatever he was going to say to a grinding halt. "I-"

"Don't." She emphasizes.

"Okay." He relents, letting out a defeated sigh and sliding off the stool. He turns to face Alison. "You should see her some time- Hanna. She misses you." And with that, he walks back to his friend. Alison chugs back half of her drink, and grabs her phone from her bag.

She sends Charlotte a text.

* * *

 **February 2016**

Alison didn't show up to the brew to meet Emily after school. She didn't show up, and she feels bad about it, especially since she didn't give the girl any warning. Emily probably sat there for hours waiting. No. She knows that's precisely what she did.

Emily absolutely waited for her, there's no question about it.

Alison skipped coffee, and instead went to Ian's party with Jenna and Noel. She lost them about an hour ago, and has been sat alone in the living area, sipping on her gin and lemonade, whilst making small talk with people a few years her senior.

One of them - Melissa Hastings - used to be her neighbor, and the woman has been glaring at her ever since she arrived. She knows that Melissa won't tell her parents, because Alison knows a thing or two that she can tell hers.

 _She wouldn't dare._

"You're an English major?" Asks Ian, who's smile burns through Alison, making her shift with unease. The blonde nods. "Second year." She lies, wondering internally why she goes to these parties - they're always so boring.

Melissa lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head, attracting the man's attention. He looks at her quizzically and Melissa shrugs her shoulders idly.

"I haven't seen you around Hollis." Melissa points out. "It's a big college, I wouldn't be surprised." Alison retorts. Melissa's eyes twinkle with determination and mischief.

"You look like my neighbor from back home, come to think of it." Melissa says. Alison takes a sip of her drink, preparing herself. "Her name's Alison. She's kind of a bitch." The woman spits.

"Sounds like I have an evil doppelganger." Alison jokes, relishing in the way it causes Melissa's jaw to clench. "I'll show you a picture," Melissa says. "Babe, can you pass my phone?" She asks Ian. Alison's stomach drops, and she tries to muster up a solution. The blonde picks up her phone too and goes to Facebook. In a quick-fire decision, she types in Melissa's name, and blocks her.

Melissa grabs her phone from Ian, and throws Alison a pleased grin. However, that grin quickly drops into a frown when she finishes typing. She lifts her gaze to Alison's smug one, and furrows her brows in confusion.

Ian looks between them, then back to Melissa. "Any luck?" He asks her. Melissa shakes her head. "She must have deleted her account or something."

Melissa gets up and begins to head for the kitchen area. "I'm going to get a drink." She snaps abruptly. A laugh creeps through Alison's lips, and Ian gives her an apologetic look. "Sorry about that."

"Don't sweat it." She reassures him. Over his shoulder, she can see Jenna and Noel watching them, whispering to each other. Jenna gives Alison a subtle wink, and Alison responds with a quirk her brow. She looks back to Ian, flashing him a demure smile. He looks her up and down in a hardly appropriate manner, then his eyes land on her drink. "Want a refill?"

She nods her head, and Ian grabs her drink, deliberately brushing his fingers against Alison's in the process. Alison cringes inwardly, but reciprocates with practiced ease. He finally moves his hand away and heads toward the bar. Alison feels her phone vibrate in her hand, and she looks at it.

 **Jenna: u going for it or what?**

Alison looks across the room to see Jenna still watching her, with a hope-filled expression. Rather than text her back, Alison gives her a furtive nod. Jenna's grin widens, and Alison can already feel the burn of her ears in anticipation for the school's reception of her latest scandal.

* * *

 **Present**

It's almost comical, the way that Charlotte's mouth hangs open. The way that her eyes light up, and they way that an intrigued smile overruns her face.

"So, you and Americano are back on?" Charlotte asks, with a hopeful lilt to her voice. Sadly, that hope is quickly crushed when Alison downs her shot of tequila and throws her an incredulous look. "Why not?" Her sister pushes.

"Can we talk about something else?" Alison asks. Charlotte nods slowly, and waves toward the bar for attention. "Can we have four more shots of tequila over here please?"

Charlotte places her hands on Alison's shoulders "Screw talking, let's drink instead."

"I like that alternative," Alison says, grinning brightly.

Four shots are placed in front of them, and Alison gulps as she picks one up. "To getting wasted," Charlotte says. "To getting wasted." Alison reiterates, downing the shot. Alison's face scrunches as the tequila burns her throat. Though, the same can't be said for Charlotte, who seems to recover pretty quickly.

A couple of pissed off sighs comes from behind them, and Alison turns her head to find the source. She feels her heart drop when she sees Aria, Emily, Hanna and Spencer standing there, wearing a variety of expressions.

Aria's glaring at her, Hanna seems conflicted, Spencer's smiling, and Emily just looks like she wants to leave.

 _The feeling is mutual._

Charlotte seems to have other ideas. "Fancy seeing you girls here."

Hanna and Spencer chuckle lightly, but Aria and Emily don't. They remain uncomfortable and withdrawn.

"You ladies want a shot?" Charlotte offers, somehow managing to amplify the already strained atmosphere. Hanna looks to her friends, then to Alison with reluctance. "Um, sure." She speaks up, throwing Alison a small smile. She walks over to them and Spencer follows her lead.

Aria glances to Emily, then Alison. She whispers something to her, but it's so muffled that it's indecipherable. Emily shakes her head and Aria rolls her eyes. "I'm going for a cigarette." She announces, heading toward the door. Alison pays attention to how Hanna and Spencer don't follow her, or even react.

 _That's new._

"What happened to the party?" Charlotte asks. "Aria's dad decided to stay," Spencer tells her. She turns her gaze to Alison. "Hey, Ali." She greets warmly.

"Hey, Spence." She says back. She looks to Hanna and gives her a curt nod, to which Hanna reciprocates. Emily steps closer to them, but keeps her distance from Alison.

"You girls like tequila?"

* * *

 **February 2016**

"Her and Ian Thomas slept together while his girlfriend was-."

Not true. None of it is, though Alison does nothing to debunk it. Somehow, letting people believe it to be real relaxes Alison immensely. She walks down the corridor, exuding her usual brand of confidence and superiority, to keep her reputation intact and her inner turmoil in the dark.

Her posture nearly falters when she spots Emily standing by her locker, admonishing her with a hurt and puzzled expression. It stings, and Alison knows that she has some explaining to do. Judging by the way that Emily shifts her attention to her locker instead, it isn't a good sign.

"Hey." She greets, stepping over to her. Emily shuts her locker before turning to face her again. She huffs out a small 'hey'. They look at each other for a painful beat, until Emily speaks up. "Nice weekend?"

They both fall into a stroll together. "It was okay. Yours?" Alison asks, watching for Emily's response. "Had better."

Alison stops Emily with a hand to her shoulder, and gives her a sincere expression. "I'm sorry- For not texting you back." Emily looks skeptical, and Alison wants nothing more than for it to go away; to be replaced with that candid-sweet expression she usually wears. "Let me make it up to you- After school, at the brew. I'll buy?" Emily seems to consider it, swaying as she makes a decision.

"Okay, deal." She finally says.

* * *

 **Present**

The temptation to slip away from her old group of friends has been staggering. Aria and Emily have been practically silent for the past hour, while Spencer and Hanna have been making careful small talk. Travis joined them with his friends after a while, which diffused the awkwardness ever so slightly.

Alison can help but think that it's too much of a coincidence for them all to have ended up at the same bar, when there's a multitude of them around here. Especially when this bar is possibly the scuzziest around.

It is then with sudden clarity that she has it all figured out. She furrows her brows and leans closer to Charlotte. "Did you tell Spencer to bring the girls here?" She asks in a hushed voice. All she gets in response is a coy smile, which is enough of an answer for her.

"I'm going to get another drink," Alison announces, slipping out of her seat. "Wait up," Hanna calls, following her to the bar. When they get there, Alison feels Hanna nudge her arm. She gives the girl an inquisitive look.

"It's nice catching up," Hanna says, with a slight slur to her speech. Alison reciprocates the nudge, mutely letting her know that she's in the same boat.

"I hate how weird things have been, since.."

 _'Since you and Emily stopped talking_ ' Alison finishes for her, inwardly.

"Me too," Alison says quietly, feeling that all too familiar sense of guilt creep up on her again. Hanna's bright eyes dim down, and she suddenly looks lost for words.

"I think that we need to lay off the shots and go for something lighter, I'm already feeling it and it's only nine." Comes Charlotte's voice from behind them. "Thank God," Alison responds. If she has to do another shot, she'll positively throw up.

* * *

Aria left to meet her boyfriend an hour ago, insisting that she would return - plot twist, _she never did._

She sent Spencer a text to let her know that she wouldn't be coming back, and when Alison asked her why not, she got a tense look in response. It hurt Alison's feelings a bit, but if anything, she's baffled. She's baffled because Emily hasn't left - not yet, anyway.

They reach their own strange milestone when Emily goes to get the next round, returning with a drink for Alison. It isn't some misguided affection, or anything like that, but rather subtle way to say ' _hey, I can be in the same room as you and not feel like I'm going to die_ '.

In retrospect, it's kind of silly, but for now? Alison will accept anything, even if it's as small as being able to peacefully coexist.

"Okay, I've had enough of this place. Let's go to a club." Charlotte suggests. Everybody hums, agreeing, and to Alison's surprise - Emily does too.

"I know a cool place just a block away," Hanna tells them, getting up from her seat. "Retro's is not a cool place, Hanna," Spencer interjects. The blonde pouts, and everyone laughs.

"How about Fuel?" Charlotte asks them. Everyone looks to each other then to Charlotte.

"What's Fuel?"

* * *

Fuel is a maze. It has five floors, with each one dedicated to a different genre of music, which Alison discovered unwarrantedly when she lost everyone while she went to get a drink.

She's been wandering the place for twenty minutes minimum, and she still hasn't found them. Alison looks around her, scanning the crowd for her group. She notes that perhaps more caution should be taken, in the way she holds her drink, because just seconds later, she walks straight into someone.

Resulting in her light blue dress being painted with strawberry daiquiri.

It's her own fault, really - she should have been paying attention to her surroundings.

Alison looks up, and is honestly not surprised the slightest when she sees a wide-eyed Emily. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-" She yells over the music.

"It's okay, it was my bad," Alison reassures her. Emily eases and tip-toes, looking around them. "Come on, we'll find a bathroom." She says, grabbing Alison's hand.

It startles Alison so much, that she barely registers that she's being guided through a crowd - being too focused on their connected hands.

Emily's drunk, that's the only logical explanation for this. There's no way in hell that she would say more than three words to her in one day, let alone hold her hand - not a chance.

They arrive at a bathroom on the jazz floor, and fall into a small queue. Emily removes her hand from Alison's, and the blonde misses the warmth of it.

She catches Emily looking at her from time to time. Though, Alison wonders if it's in fact Emily catching her. The silence between them is filled with an inexplicable urge.

An urge to initiate conversation, to say something. But she's too scared. She's scared that the second she opens her mouth, the sooner this ends. The sooner they go back to being strangers.

A cubicle door opens, and two girls emerge from it, giggling. Alison can hear groans of annoyance coming from some people in the queue, and she glances to Emily. There's a shadow of a smirk on her face, and a knowing look in her eye.

Alison's eyebrows quirk upward and an amused smile plays at her lips. She knows that Emily's referencing their time together at Noel Kahn's Christmas party last year. They had a bit too much to drink, and struggled to keep their hands off each other, resulting in them ending up in one of the bathrooms.

 _That was the last time they were together._

Emily seems to realize that, because suddenly, her knowing look fades away, and it's replaced by a strange fire. Her eyes always had more to say than words, they always said more than she ever could.

Come to think of it, neither of them were really ever good with words.

Maybe that was where it all went wrong.

It seems to occur to Emily too, and the barest smile forms on the brunette's lips, contrasting the sadness in her eyes. It's as if she's trying to stomp that realization.

Someone exits the cubicle closest to them, and Emily startles. She blinks her eyes, and recomposes them. "I'll wait here." She says, almost strained.

Alison nods her head and she walks toward the cubicle. Her eyes linger on Emily, hoping that maybe she'll follow.

She doesn't.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think in the comments, or on tumblr** **bitteremison.**


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